Summary

From sleepy Caldwell to sunny Ventura, the Temple branches out and finds new converts …

Drew clicked on the address in the text message his father sent him: Ocean Drive, Ventura. His father had mentioned his desire to purchase a beach home, but he rarely believed his father. Drew’s dad talked a big talk, but never walked the walk. When his mother and father divorced, Drew learned that he could not rely on his father, except for the occasional ‘guilt check’, a dollop of cash designed to assuage Drew’s father guilt. The guilt checks came when Drew’s dad failed to appear at his high school lacrosse championship match or one of the many college events that a responsible father would have attended. In the high school and college, Drew rarely contacted his father. He waited for his father to call, and that call almost never came. As an adult, Drew accepted his father for what he was: an immature man on the verge of mid-life crisis.

Drew drove along the Pacific Coastal Highway, the mid-afternoon sun beaming upon his face. “Nothing like a convertible in Cali.”, Drew thought to himself. At least his father was good for something. Drew’s dad owned several car dealerships. When he graduated from college, Drew summoned to the courage to approach his father and say “I need a car.” His father obliged, providing him with a certified pre-owned Tesla Roadster. Drew glide down the highway at a comfortable 50 mph, ignoring the blaring horns of the other vehicles annoyed at Drew’s pace. Drew saluted all the cars that flipped him the bird, shouting, in a happy, sing-song tone, “Fuck you, assholes.”

Eventually, Drew reached Ocean Drive and pulled into the driveway of the beach front property in Ventura. “You’ve arrived.”, the annoying voice on Drew’s GPS announced.

“No shit, stupid.”, Drew answered the inanimate GPS voice. He hopped out of his convertible, grabbed his overnight bag and headed for the rear of the house. He assumed that his father would be on the beach. He plopped his overnight bag on the rear deck and surveyed the beach. He spotted two men near the water’s edge. “Is that him?”, Drew muttered. He kicked off his high-tops and sweat socks and headed for the beach, wearing his cargo shorts and athletic shirt. The closer he got to the two men, the more he questioned his eyes. “That can’t be him.”, Drew thought to himself. These men wore tight-fitting, skimpy bathing trunks and sported gym-honed physiques. Plus, these men appeared youthful.

“Drew.”, a man shouted.

Drew froze in his tracks. “What the fuck is this?”, he thought to himself. He stared at the two men, his father and some other man, wearing camouflage-motif bikinis at the beach. His father looked so young. Was this what mid-life crisis looked like after spending thousands on a makeover? (To see Drew’s father and the other man, click here). “Dad, is that you?”

“Drew. Welcome to my new house. This is Seth. He’s my lover.”, Ken said. His voice was stilted and robotic.

Drew looked at his father. “What do you mean ‘lover’?”

“Your father and I met about two months ago.”, Seth said.

“What the fuck are you talking about? My father’s not gay.”, Drew said.

“I am. That’s why I divorced your mother. I was never happy being straight. Now that I’m happy, I don’t care if the world knows that I’m gay.”, Ken said.

Drew shook his head. “I’m … I …” Drew did not know what to say. He turned around and headed for the house. He planned on returning back to the city. When he reached the house, he stood on the deck and watched his father and his lover walk into the ocean, naked and practically holding hands. “Son of a bitch!”, Drew muttered. He sat on one of the deck chairs and stared at the two lovers bathe in the ocean. (To see Ken and Seth, click here).

Drew replayed his father’s coming-out narrative in his mind. He could not recall his mom and dad ever showing affection, like hugging or kissing. “Maybe Dad was gay, but married because … twenty-five years ago, being gay was like being cursed.” He shook his head. “Dad fucked broads behind Mom’s back. Gay men don’t do that.” He paused and then whispered, “Or was he fucking dudes.” As he volleyed these thoughts from the left side of his brain to the right, Drew watched his father and Seth return to the beach, don their bikini bathing suits and walk back to the house. “What am I going to do?”, he muttered.

Drew sat along the vertical of the horizontally-shaped dining room table. His father and Seth sat side by side, on the opposite. Seth poured many glasses of a fine Cabernet. Out of respect for his father, Drew decided to spend the night and gather as much information on the two lovers. Seth, the wine snob, rose from the table to decant another bottle of wine. He returned to the table with another glass decanter filled with a dark red. As Seth poured the wine, Drew asked, “Where did you guys meet?”

“Yes. The Temple of Priapus. It’s a non-deific spiritual house of worship. I’m a Cyntaf Piden at the Temple. I was canvassing your father’s neighborhood when we met.”, Seth answered.

Drew could not believe his ears. He wanted to laugh in Seth’s face, but his father’s deadpan expression spoke volumes. “He’s serious”, he thought to himself. “What’s a non-deific spiritual house of worship?”, Drew asked.

“The Temple of Priapus has at its core a dedication to the spirituality of the Phallus. I believe In the Phallus. I believe in the Divinity of the Phallus, symbolized by Priapus, the graven manifestation of God Cock. Through worship of the Holy Phallus, my body, my sexuality, my spirituality and my life become one with all men. I believe in the Beauty of the Phallus, in its strength, its magnetism, its ability to generate ecstasy when fucking, being sucked, touched, licked or masturbated. I am in awe of its beauty whether erect or flaccid. I believe in the Equality of the Phallus. Whether black or white, young or old, large or small, I worship all with passion and without discrimination.”

Drew listened to Seth’s explanation. He could not believe what he heard. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me? Right?”, Drew answered, politely refraining from outright laughter.

“No.”, Seth replied, nonchalantly.

“Dad, you believe this shit?”, Drew asked.

“Drew, my life has changed once I accept the true worship of the Holy Phallus. My body, my sexuality, my spirituality and my life has become one with all men. I believe in the Beauty of the Phallus, in its strength, its magnetism, its ability to generate ecstasy when fucking, being sucked, touched, licked or masturbated. I am in awe of its beauty whether erect or flaccid. I believe in the Equality of the Phallus. Whether black or white, young or old, large or small, I worship all with passion and without discrimination.”

Drew listened to his father’s scripted reply. He sounded like a digital recording on playback. He rose from the dinner table and said, “I don’t know what drugs you fed my father, but I’m calling the police.” Before he could reach his phone, Drew suddenly collapsed, having succumb from the sedatives slipped into the last two decanters of wine.

Drew opened his eyes. He was sitting on the couch in the den. He focused on the large-screen television. The image of a midnight sky filled the screen. Suddenly, the image seemed to come to life, as the stars that filled the midnight sky scene twinkled and flashed. A deep, bass voice began the voice over. “As numerous as the stars is the diversity of man. In all shapes and sizes, he comes. Man has at its core one basis identity: the phallus. It defines our very nature. The phallus unites all human males. We each have a phallus, made in the image of the Great Father. Sex bonds us to our phallus but also to one another. As humans, we must devote our being to cock. Sexual orientation of the devotee is not important. Rather, interaction with cock is integral to his worship and devotion.”

Drew watched and listened to the video. The sedatives Seth slipped into his wine at dinner lulled Drew into a dazed, relaxed mood. He watched the flashing lights of the stars, clueless soaking in all the subliminal messages and images that infiltrated his mind. The starry midnight scene became a graphic, spiral version of a van Gogh painting. Again, he heard the voice over narrate the tenets of the Temple. “We may not be moved to worship every cock, but we should always understand that every man is connected to one another through the phallus. By embracing our brother and giving his cock a healthy hand-welcome, we do more to spreading love and peace throughout the entire world. No man will be shunned from worship if they accept the Great Father’s truth: cock binds us all.”

Drew wanted to close his eyes, but the images on the screen were so riveting. “Cock binds us all.”, he whispered to himself. For hours, Drew watched the video, his mind soaking in every subliminal image, his ears hearing every audible voice and beta wave sound.

Drew blinked and stared at his groin. His cock tented his cargo shorts. He lowered his shorts and whipped out his cock, stroking his erect member, slowly at first and then pumping faster and faster, as the video voice over demanded. When Drew bust his nut, spraying ounces of jizz upon his chest, he stared at the video and said, “Nema.” Drew closed his eyes and fell asleep.

“Nema.”, Seth whispered. He turned to Ken and said, “You may take cum-munion.” The Cyntaf Piden watched his recent convert lick the still warm cum from Drew’s chest.

“Holy semen.”, Ken said. “Nema.”

“Yes, Ken. Holy semen. Nema.”, Seth replied. He turned around and said, “Noah, take our new brother and teach him how to worship in private.”

Noah, a fellow Cyntaf Piden, escorted Drew into one of the spare bedrooms. He undressed first and then helped Drew remove his clothes.

Drew stared at the naked man. “Who are you?”

“I am Noah. I am your Cyntaf Piden.”, Noah replied.

Drew bowed his head and paid the Cyntaf Piden homage, kneeling at Noah’s feet. Noah smiled. He wiggled his cock before Drew’s lips and said, “Worship the phallus.”

“Nema.”, Drew replied. He swallowed Noah’s cock, deepthroating Noah’s obscene shaft, balls deep. His mouth bobbed back and forth on Noah’s thick cock. He could feel the blood surging in the veins that lined the shaft of Noah’s erection. Noah rocked his hips back and forth, fucking Drew’s mouth. Drew gagged repeatedly upon Noah’s cock, but never lost contact. His lips remained glued to Noah’s cock.

Noah closed his eyes, as he enjoyed Drew’s warm, wet mouth pleasure his cock. When he opened his eyes, Noah spotted Seth standing in the threshold of the door. Noah smiled at Seth and gave Seth a thumbs-up. Noah faced Drew and said, “Worship of our Great Father, the Sacred Phallus, is a gift and a task. The task is to bring pleasure to Priapus, to allow him to rise and be visible to all. Share your gift of worship. As you prepare to give service, remember that you serve at His pleasure. Always do your best during worship, concentrating on your technique, your gentle touch, to give as much pleasure as you can, for this is how you show your dedication and love.” Drew listened to Noah’s preaching, carefully heeding Noah’s words and focusing on his engorged member, licking the veiny ridges of his elongated shaft, nibbling upon Noah’s dangling balls, and popping Noah’s cock hear out of the side of his mouth. Noah enjoyed Drew’s efforts, but he preferred Drew’s hot, wet mouth. He plunged his cock deep into Drew’s throat and face-fucked the new convert.

Seth walked towards the master bedroom, Ken following him, quietly. His brother, Adam, a Cyntaf Piden, provided Seth, with the Temple’s instructional video, and taught Seth the hidden benefits of the Temple’s instructional video. The video teaches new inductees to obey their Cyntaf Piden. Adam recounted to Seth how he ensnared Jared, personally benefitting from Jared’s largesse. Seth decided to do the same, but not until he could find the perfect convert, someone that would financially support his lifestyle. When he researched Drew’s background, Seth decided to ensnare Ken’s son for his friend, Noah, one of the younger trainers at the gym. The foursome would enjoy Ken’s largesse and beach house lifestyle.

For the remainder of the evening, until the dawn, the four men worshipped privately in their respective bedrooms, taking cum-munion and learning how ‘cock binds us all’.

Two months later —

“Drew. Drew Thomas.”, a voice called out. “Is that you?”

Drew turned around to face the voice. In the crowded streets of downtown Ventura, during the July Festival, Drew did not expect someone to call out his name. He had lost contact with his friends since he moved from Los Angeles to Ventura. “Oh. Hi!”, he said, feigning interest.

The airhead blonde wearing Daisy-Dukes and a skimpy bikini top walked up to Drew and kissed the young stud. “You look … different.” She ran her hands in Drew’s hair. “I like the new color.” Drew politely swatted the blonde’s hands from his scalp. “Why did you stop returning my calls?”, she asked in that negative demanding tone.

“He’s mine.”, Noah replied. The two lovers kissed to make sure that the airhead blonde understood the score. Drew did not flinch from Noah’s kiss. He obeyed his Cyntaf Piden in all things, as a follower of the Sacred Phallus must.

The airhead stood speechless. Drew stared at her and said, “You wouldn’t understand. You can’t appreciate how cock binds us all.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”, the airhead blonde asked.

Drew and Noah laughed. They walked away, hand in hand, joining the other partyers along the main drag, enjoying the sun-filled day, and planning to worship late into the night.

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